The Potted Psalm
James Broughton, Sidney Peterson
- The voyeur in us, the us in there.
Early Afternoon, The guests are starting to wake up: A man asks if any's seen his head. A woman looks at her shredded bed. A man needs to get his leg fed. A woman paints her breast red. A man looks as if he's dead. A woman drinks and finds a head. Oh! Someone must have lost his head, to the lady wed on the shredded bed.
The Games of the Angels
(Les jeux des anges)
- Play to lose, unplay to lose, lose to play.
Soylent Green, by Richard Fleischer
A crack was born into a wall, It grows up just like others, Insecure and small. With a sense of unbelonging, It starts to fall. The crack gets bigger and bigger, The wall gets smaller and smaller, Then one day, The crack cracks through the entire wall, But it is too late to find out, That there is no crack without the wall.
Wallace & Gromit in The Wrong Trousers
- The importance of selecting the right pants.
The Incredibles, by Brad Bird
Unzip that. Take it out. Unzip that. Take it out. Unzip that (this too?) Yes, unzip that too. And don't move, I'll take it out for you!
Leo McCarey, James Horne
- Collateral damage is inevitable.
Another call-in Let's see how you are going to handle this The voice drags on Like caterpillar getting drunk You have the temptation To undershadow the frustration But this is your last call Last call to end it all What else would you do? Running a business, Or sleep-in at the mall?
- Kaleidoscope of faces.
Exhale the sensation from the powder, It is time to shut up louder. Let yourself through the mirror, To dance on your eyes and tremor. Masquerade is eaten into history, Masquelee is swiped into mystery. No one will see you in the mirror, As no eyes will be held in terror. One needs not a face to see, But rather a place to pee, From the sensation from the powder.
- History repeats itself.
Be born! A fire, hot like blood, Runs through a century, Rising with red flood. Top the golden corner, A beam of dawn, The eyes are gone, Soaked in moon water, Filled with skin ash, And the tide turns, - Long live the new flesh!
- The barometer of emotions visualized.
The Tune, by Bill Plympton
Your face, my ass, like a bliss, on the piss, never to miss, a dirty kiss, a vis, a blitz, it fits, in the pits, like a flower on the sis.
- He put a spell on ya!
Mystery Train, by Jim Jarmusch
The lady in the elevator, drops a stolen breath. Oh! Who's gonna pick it up? Not me, I'm short on girth. Not me, I'm from Perth. Not me, I barely lived through birth. The man in the fourth, Is ready to set forth. But who on earth, Would be the man of worth?
(Postava k podpírání)
Pavel Jurácek, Jan Schmidt
- Ask the cat!
Brazil, by Terry Gilliam
A man went to get a stamp, For his application to the camp. He was told, In order to get the stamp, One needs to see the man with the hemp. But to see the man with the hemp, One needs to have the stamp to the camp, For the man with the hemp, Lives in the center of the camp. He thought for a moment, Then takes off like a champ.
The Coiling Prankster
- Life on a wire.
The second-hand intuition, Trumps the tip-toe prohibition, In a split second, Abandoning all admonition. The thin fine line of life, Rests upon a distinct knife, To cut the lagging foot, Loose and falling fifty five. Ouch! Says the Man, It's easier to just find a wife.